Corrupted Data
by Gureyagi
Summary: There can be dangers to curiosity. Wondering where reality and dream begins. The pessimistic view weaves threads of cunning with flesh, bones, and metal. Leaving a trail of blood in his wake... within a machine's world, a human can only be trusted to pave his own reality.


**Corrupted Data**

_- A Matrix Fic -_

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><p><em>- Intro -<br>_

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><p>There can be dangers to curiosity. Wondering where reality and dream begins. Distinguishing between the things that shape your perception of the world and touching on the fine lines that trace the boundary of developed morals and fabricated ideals. Blindness that comes with idealism and hope, completely ignoring the subtle currents driving the world about oneself.<p>

But there are those who ask questions. Seeking to understand the hidden meaning and reasons behind actions. Reality scorns these beings. Or is it truly reality? Who says that the person you see in front of you is really who they claim to be? Who says that the facts you know truly bind you? That the perspective of the world that you have been raised with is the only one? Who says your view of reality is even true?

The realm inside one's mind is a miraculous thing. The human brain creating rationalizations to strange phenomena. Gladly giving the blind eye to that which they do not understand, gently smoothing out the ripples in their fabricated world. A scratch doesn't hurt as much when you don't think about it. Things which rest at the edges of your vision are hardly noticed, fading away beyond your sight.

But what happens when that facade crumbles? Like I said, those who have the presence of mind to see beyond the ruse of perception are scorned, hated by reality. They see pain. They see void. The rough stone that snakes sun themselves on has crushed the fragile flowers beneath, never to rise again. The child that you pat on the back subconsciously flinches, not because of hate, but because of the reality that rough hands have hurt him. The young woman that sits out of physical activities isn't a prim snob, or a uncoordinated nerd, no... her body is falling apart.

The things that are visible on the surface are deceiving. Their purpose can mislead. Do not trust them. For everything is rarely as it seems.

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><p>Note: I do not claim to have created or have ownership over any of the characters or the story. The rights go to their respective owners...<p>

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><p>1...2...3... -beep- The sound echoed in his mind like a bell, reaching into the dark subconscious and forcing him to awake. An automated alert system pulled him out of the program at the scheduled time, the bridge between New Matrix and the cold greasy reality becoming clear once more. The young man groaned in annoyance as the cables disconnected from his skull and he rolled out of the upload chair.<p>

Day 938 since he was ejected from the system for no apparent reason. The white marks etched into his skin by anything he could find at the time reminded him that this was reality, here he was alive. He could still faintly remember the burning agony as his eyes saw light for the first time, like a newborn. Though he immediately had gone into shock as machines came to pry his limp body out of the 'empty' slot. He was just a disposable battery to them, nothing more, his first real thoughts going unnoticed as they routinely cast his form into the chasm below.

But how? Why?

A glitch.

It was happening again, the matrix was reloading and programs were rebelling in their new-found consciousness'. Rogue data... some foul and corrupt, had begun eating their way through hundreds upon thousands of lines of code.

Rex reached out his arm, the muscles tightening and joints cracking as he stretched. This was reality.

The dull ache let him know that he was alive as he slowly shook out the stiffness of twelve hours in the chair. Data was degenerating faster than ever, and the report that he would have to write grew steadily more daunting as each hour replayed in his mind. Fuck that.

With a thud, his feet hit the steel grate that made up 80% of the interior in his ship. A one-man crew. Unheard of until he made it a reality. He never liked being around people. Even during his original time in the matrix he was considered strange, an outcast. Instead of the better life he had originally hoped for when his eyes truly opened for the first time, they opened to what he now considered a graduated form of hell.

No, some things never changed.

A faint beeping echoed in his ears and instantly he sprung into action. A thousand possibilities rushing through his mind as he slipped into the pilot seat of the small vessel. The power conduit before his eyes pulsed with energy.

Many humans called him insane for going solo. But they'd never look at him the same if he told them his trick for staying hidden from the machines.

Seven conduits of pure energy ran across the deserted surface, striking near perfect lines of blinding blue light, pure energy syphoned off of human life. Occasionally, routinely scheduled mechs would run down the cables, inspecting the conduits for any defects or malfunctions. Yet between the cables, volatile energy arched across the gap, frying the mechanics of any machine which stayed too long.

This was where he stayed with his small one-man ship. Syphoning off energy that he needed while using his ship as a conduit for the rest of the electricity.

Randomly, a spark would shoot across the hull, creating a deadly bolt of power. Turning anything it its path into a burnt mess that could ruin his already shitty days.

Yet, unlike many of the survivors of the Matrix who had been ejected by taking the pill, Rex still used a few of the ports grown in his body. He was a part of his ship, and the ship kept him alive, the grounding of the cables connected to his body keeping him from being fried.

Yes, they would call him crazy, but he was alive.

The alarm continued to blare and he slammed a button on the console. Static from the power conduits around and in him kept the ship masked from scans, however that wouldn't keep a curious mech from spotting his ship if it came snooping too close. Like now.

Numerous jointed tentacles seemed to move their way into the space between cables in front of his eyes in the view panel. Their grey-silver finish reflecting the bright light as a red 'eye' scanned the area.

Shit, this day was just getting better.

The viewing screen showed the mech scanning the area furthest from his ship, the static of the power lines masking his signature as a spark of energy shot through the cockpit, singeing the leather chair just before he slipped into the seat.

Thrusters, check. Clamps, check. Power, check. Life support, check.

A hum of approval escaped his lips as he saw the readings unchanged after his long stint in the chair.

From the looks of it, the curious mech was a small one, a single red eye, probably a Class 4: Sentinel or what he liked to call, "Banshee". He could blast it out of the air easily, however there was no way to ensure that he could get a clear shot before it sent out a signal to every auton within 25 miles.

Banshees were well known for their ability to send out warning signals within milliseconds if it deemed something even as small as a wayward cockroach as a threat.

Reaching out to grab a cable, Rex attached it to his forearm, wincing before closing his eyes to focus. He was under orders to carry out the mission he had just completed. Like hell he'd get killed by some pipsqueak before he got to turn in the damn report.

Code flashed in his mind as soon as he fastened a second cable to his other arm and the view-screen disappeared, its use no longer needed.

The schematics of a Class 2 Sentinel formed as lines in his mind, and he quickly began rewriting the commands to the shielding of his ship.

25, 50 degrees, the Banshee's red scanner grew closer.

A bead of sweat rolled off his forehead.

Mentally, his mind chunked at numbers and symbols, shifting the connections, rewriting commands to accept the hardware that was there, just temporarily being used for something else.

90 degrees, the ship was almost in the mech's view.

Collapsing in relief, Rex leaned back on his chair and various sensors on his newly-disguised hovercraft blinked upon his closed eyelids.

By the time the Banshee turned its red scanner his direction, the only thing it saw was the debris of a Sentinel three times the size of itself, wedged permanently between two power conduits.

It moved on.

Satisfied, Rex disconnected the two cables used for the visual ship interface and the view-screen flickered back into existence.

19.85 seconds to write and activate the holograph code, it was a new record. Though one that he was sure to avoid adding to his report. He didn't need his boss to know about that specific ability, and he filed the code away in a dark corner of his mind to pull out in case he needed it at a moment's notice again.

After writing his report, Rex ran his hand through the messy black hair which he rarely paid any attention to. How long had it been since he had been to Zion? Two months? No, Four. Judging by how long his unkempt hair which he shaved each time he went near civilization.

Its not like he really cared, people didn't seem to pay much attention to someone who looks like they've just dragged themselves out of the depths of the tunnels for the first time in 200 years.

They thought he was crazy for flying solo anyway, he didn't need to be ignored and written off as a loon because of his appearance.

According to them, he searched out and identified people ready for an extraction team, pointing them in the right direction when he had a lead.

Inwardly he frowned, mentally gathering what he was planning on saying to Commander Trinity to explain the apparent lack of potential Redpills in the Matrix.

Simply out of luck?

If only.

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><p><em><strong>Yaaay, I got another story up. Was inspired by re-watching the movies again and couldn't help but want to write whatever popped into my brain at the time. Hopefully this'll work out into a pretty fun story. Well, depends on your definition of fun, but no matter. Please R&amp;R. I'll try to update soon, but moving irl will probably delay that. <strong>_

_**Ja`**_


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